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Luca looked at the fork and thought of the conversation they’d had the other night.
“Unless you’re going to go through my eye, don’t even bother. Anything else would just excite me.”
“You’re seriously fucked up, you know that, right?”
“And you’re seriously fucked. I know which one I’d prefer to be.” Dom turned away, opened the freezer, and pulled out a bottle of vodka. Then he grabbed two crystal highballs.
Luca eyed the glass as Dom poured a finger of the clear liquid and slid one across the table. “I’ll pass.”
“I didn’t ask. Drink.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I’ll make you.”
Luca looked at the glass and then to Dom, reached for the vodka, and tossed it back.
Fuck it. In for a penny, in for a pound. If it was poison it’d be a horrendous way to die, but at least this would all be over.
Luca coughed as the liquid burned down his throat, and Dom poured him a second.
“Again.”
“Seriously?”
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
Luca sat back and crossed his arms. “No. I’m not drinking another fucking drop until you tell me you’re sorry.”
“For being an asshole?”
Luca scowled. “How about for existing?”
Dom cocked his head to the side, examining Luca as one might an anomaly, and Luca wasn’t surprised. Up until now he’d been too scared to talk back, too confused to have a backbone, but the gloves were coming off now.
“What is it, exactly, you feel I should apologize for, Luca?”
If Dom thought Luca was about to back down, he was sorely mistaken. Luca had rage, humiliation, and a healthy dose of insanity riding him now. His instinct to do whatever it took to stay alive had disappeared around the same time he realized trying to run from Dom was futile.
“How about the fact that only hours after you had your dick halfway down my throat, you told me to fuck off like I was nothing more than a piece of garbage?”
Dom narrowed his eyes as he poured himself a drink and threw it back. “As far as I’m concerned, the only thing that happened of any consequence last night was your trying to escape. I didn’t let you. The end.”
“Really?” Luca jabbed his fork into a piece of tomato. “Okay. Because from what I remember, you saved me from some thug who was about to strangle me. So… I don’t know, maybe you want to look up your Mafia handbook about the mixed signals you’re giving to your hostage, because saving me and then forcing me to suck your cock kinda gives the wrong impression.”
Like a lightning bolt, Dom’s hand whipped out and grabbed Luca’s wrist. “You’re mine. I get to decide your fate. Not some fucking Fiore thug.”
Luca wasn’t sure what possessed him, maybe the fact that he finally had Dom talking, but before he thought twice about it, he said, “Aren’tIa fucking Fiore?”
Dom’s eyes burned, but Luca couldn’t discern the feeling behind it. Annoyance? Anger? Something else? He was so close he could reach out and grab Luca by the shirt…and do what? Hit him? Kiss him?
Like he could read Luca’s mind and didn’t like the direction his thoughts were taking, Dom moved back and reached for the alcohol again. He poured himself another round and muttered, “Lapse in judgment.”
“Really? I thought you didn’t make those. Doesn’t that get you killed in your line of work?”
Dom slammed the bottle on the counter so hard that Luca was surprised it didn’t break. “Hey—smartass. Cut the shit.”
“Or what?”
